


Hang in thin air

by Jeegoo



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Bondage, Humiliation, Imprisonment, M/M, Shibari, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 14:34:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeegoo/pseuds/Jeegoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron entrusts his most loyal Decepticon with an important task; breaking the spirit of their captive Prime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hang in thin air

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an image created by [MamonnA](http://mamonna.deviantart.com/): [Hang in thin air](http://fav.me/d5rgfix)
> 
>  **Beta:** [HurricaneFoundry](http://archiveofourown.org/users/HurricaneFoundry/pseuds/HurricaneFoundry)
> 
>  **A/N:** Units of time used in this fic are as follows;  
>  _Klik:_ 1.2 minutes  
>  _Breem:_ 8.3 minutes  
>  _Groon:_ 1 hour  
>  _Mega-cycle:_ 93 hours

To the casual observer, Megatron appeared to be completely involved in his work. With their base now rubble and the Autobots separated, leaderless and on the run, the victory of the Decepticons seemed closer than it had ever been before. All that was required at this point was the most minimal of effort; tracking down and capturing their remaining enemies.  
  
Megatron strongly doubted that they possessed the technology to conceal their messages completely at this point- it would be far simpler for the Autobots to speak in some kind of code, attempting to disguise any communications within the monstrous _racket_ the humans constantly generated.  
  
That was the job Megatron had currently tasked himself with. Soundwave was far better suited for this kind of work, but the Decepticon leader had entrusted him with a job that had required a more delicate touch, one that he recognized himself incapable of. Soundwave, however, possessed both the finesse and discretion Megatron had desired.  
  
He couldn’t stop thinking about it, in fact. Megatron had given his Communications Officer instruction that had allowed him considerable latitude in his task, for multiple reasons. Soundwave had never abused his authority when given orders that allowed him freedom, as Starscream was wont to do. And in this task, at least, Megatron had possessed conflicting desires that had prevented him from acting personally, or even making a firm decision. Soundwave’s telepathic abilities would have been able to pick out those separate threads in his processor; more than that, he had the ability to _read_ desires Megatron had not even been aware he possessed.  
  
And so, Megatron had entrusted this vital undertaking to his most loyal officer, confident that he would not be disappointed.  
  
Right on cue, he received a brief ping from Soundwave; he was done. Megatron felt anticipation flare in his tanks, and allowed himself a brief moment to savor it as he directed one of the Vehicons to take over his work.  
  
Keeping his pace sedate as he walked down to the level Soundwave had ensconced himself on was a study in self-control. Being too obviously eager would leave himself open to humiliation and invite attempts to undermine his authority. Ideally, he should have waited several groon to a megacycle before inspecting Soundwave’s work.  
  
It was not too late to turn back.  
  
He continued onward.  
  
Megatron ground his dentes in frustration, scowling furiously. He could pause to consider his actions, but if anyone saw his hesitation … no, that would send out entirely the wrong message.  
  
He wasn’t so involved in his thoughts that he missed Starscream’s silhouette lurking in one of the halls closer to Soundwave’s position. While it was mollifying to see he wasn’t alone in his anticipation, it bothered him that _Starscream_ felt comfortable enough to pry into business not his own, especially so soon after being reaccepted into the Decepticon forces.  
  
Megatron chose to make no comment this time; he would test his Seeker. As long as Starscream remained where he was and didn’t try to interfere without express permission from his Lord, he would accept this minor slip. He could appreciate the Seeker’s desperate curiosity.  
  
He continued down the increasingly dim halls; the Decepticons had not utilized these areas in quite some time, and it showed. His tread echoed heavily, and he briefly wondered if it was audible from within the cells that lined both walls. No matter the answer, the information could be used to his advantage in future visits.  
  
He slowed his pace ever so slightly, drawing out his own anticipation and possibly another’s in addition.  
  
When he reached Soundwave’s location, a check of his internal chronometer told him the journey had taken just over a breem to complete. His churning tanks and overclocked processor insisted it had been longer, and he allowed himself a klik to settle his systems. While it was possible his … excited state would be overlooked, Megatron wasn’t willing to take the risk.  
  
A brief, but heavily encoded transmission to the security panel allowed him entry- he _had_ intended to walk straight in, but the sight that greeted him as the door slid open forced all conscious thought and intent to the back of his processor.  
  
Megatron could only _stare._  
  
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, really. Soundwave’s dangerous competence, in combination with his natural abilities meant that when he didn’t meet Megatron’s every expectation it was only because he _exceeded_ them. That had been _why_ he’d been entrusted with this task.  
  
Discovering the gravely injured Optimus Prime in the ruins of the Autobot base had been an unexpected, but completely welcome surprise.  
  
From the beginning, however, Megatron had been torn with indecisiveness on how to deal with his prisoner. Destroying the last remaining Prime would be a crushing blow to _all_ Autobots- not just the ones stationed on this planet. Reanimating his corpse and sending it out to tear apart the mechs it had once lead would be incredibly satisfying as well, and likely demoralizing enough to crush any remaining resistance. Unfortunately, destroying Optimus was _not_ something he could undo if he so desired at a later date. Even reanimation through Dark Energon would not restore his personality and memories.  
  
Megatron had to admit that he wanted to see the friend who had betrayed him suffering, just as much- perhaps even _more-_ than he wanted to see him dead. Keeping Optimus alive offered him far more opportunities to sate his desire for revenge.  
  
Prime was always far more useful to him _alive_ than _dead._  
  
He recognized the rightness in his decision now that Soundwave had picked out a punishment he’d never even considered. Megatron recognized his own flaws quite clearly- he was impatient, brutal and reacted with force and violence where alternative methods might have worked better. Soundwave was intelligent and subtle and possessed a talent for understated elegance that many Decepticons couldn’t perceive, let alone appreciate.  
  
Optimus had been taken to Knock Out after his capture and repaired completely. His weapons had been surgically removed along with his transformation cog, and his wireless communications disabled. The Medic had even repaired his cosmetic damage without prompting. Once their prisoner was fully recovered, he had been delivered into Soundwave’s custody.  
  
Soundwave had then spent several groon alone with the Prime in here, working on suspending their captive upside-down from the ceiling. All four of his limbs had been pulled behind him and bound together, which forced his back to arch in the most attractive manner. The bulk of his weight was supported by the ropes around his lower torso and pelvis, arranged so that he could remain bound in this position for a considerable length of time without incurring serious damage.  
  
Megatron wondered how long it had taken Soundwave to devise this position. It would be clear to all but the most casual, inexperienced observer that such a display required considerable forethought and skill. To have Prime’s weight so evenly dispersed, keeping him _balanced_ while remaining so exposed and vulnerable…  
  
Megatron circled around his prisoner slowly, admiring Prime’s frame from every angle and careful to record every moment. It would bring him no small amount of satisfaction to share this vision with any future Autobot prisoners. His digits twitched and flexed unconsciously as he admired Soundwave’s work; he longed to reach out and touch, but recognized that even the smallest amount of movement would diminish the impact of the exhibit.  
  
He took his time recording Soundwave’s work, and once he had completed his circuit he finally allowed himself to focus on Prime’s expression.  
  
He had expected dull neutrality, the lax expression of a mech who had no control over their servo motors. What he _saw_ was serene regality- as if Prime was trying to fool any observer into thinking that he had _consented_ to being displayed in such a manner. The sudden realization that Prime was not motionless because he _couldn’t_ move _,_ but simply because he had _chosen_ not to move was… arousing. And laughable.  
  
“I must commend your efforts, Soundwave.” He finally spoke. Prime’s self-control was such that he didn’t even flicker an optic in surprise, and Megatron felt a powerful urge to see his expression twisted with shame and fear. “As much as I desire to keep your artistic efforts private, I recognize that I am … _poorly_ qualified to critique your work,” he kept his optics focused on Optimus’ expression, watching for even the most subtle change. “I believe there are mechs on board, however, who _do_ have experience and would be more than happy to offer their opinion.”  
  
Not even a flicker. How disappointing. Megatron sent brief, summoning pings to Starscream and Knock Out. Both had been born into noble families, although Knock Out had been expelled from his caste long before the war. He knew for a fact, however, that Starscream had regularly been dragged to galleries and exposed to various masterpieces in the period of time he worked for Sentinel Prime.  
  
Starscream did not disappoint; it was a bare klik before he pinged Megatron back, obediently requesting permission to enter. Megatron did not bother shifting his gaze from Optimus’ face as he triggered the door to open; the Prime’s reactions interested him much more than Starscream’s.  
  
His Seeker let out a _most_ satisfactory noise when he saw the display. Megatron could imagine the look on his face; that crooked smirk he always wore when he saw a powerful enemy brought down. “Thisis _your_ work, Soundwave _?”_  
  
“Soundwave possesses many hidden talents, Starscream.” Megatron glanced away for a moment, pinning the Seeker against the door with a sharp gaze. “You have experience critiquing art, as an ex-noble,” Starscream was unable to stifle a flinch at the title, his expression slipping. “Tell us what you think of _this_ piece.” He gestured briefly towards Optimus, and Starscream took the hint.  
  
He circled around the captive in much the same manner as Megatron had. Moving slowly, and observing him thoroughly, the predatory edge to his gaze returning quickly. “I have little experience with _erotic_ art.” He began, and Megatron’s optics flicked back to Optimus’ face. There was a hint of tightness in the corners of his mouth that hadn’t been there just a moment ago. Megatron smiled, and gestured for the Seeker to continue.  
  
Starscream clasped his hands together behind his back, and continued to circle. “I appreciate how difficult it must have been, to develop a position that is both comfortable enough for your model while remaining attractive to the viewer,” he gave a considering hum, and moved to a position that was outside the Prime’s range of sight unless he turned his head. “There must have been quite a strong _bond_ between the model and the artist, since the position is so openly _vulnerable._ ”  
  
Starscream was cutting away Prime’s serenity quite cleanly; his expression was noticeably less calm, and the Seeker had barely even warmed up. “I quite approve of the choice in model as well; it takes a lot of self-control to remain so _still_ for the viewers’ gratification.” Starscream reached out slowly, as if to draw the tip of one talon across the edge of Optimus’ ped, but the ferocity of the glare Megatron turned on him was enough to have him quail. His hands remained clasped behind his back, after that.  
  
Megatron returned his optics to Optimus’ face once more, and did not shift them again- confident that Starscream would not risk his wrath by trying to sneak more touches. His Seeker kept up the stream of comments- each one bordering closer to obscene than the last, while never crossing the line.  
  
Optimus’ composure slipped a little further with each comment, losing every trace of serenity he had possessed when Megatron first entered. Strongest now was clear humiliation, with traces of anger and determination. It must have taken all of his _considerable_ self-control simply to remain motionless and silent, resisting their provocation.  
  
Megatron’s focus was distracted when Knock Out finallypinged him back, requesting entry. The Medic’s… _attraction_ towards the Prime was well known, and he suspected that his reaction would be far less restrained than his own or Starscream’s. It promised to be entertaining.  
  
He was not disappointed. Knock Out’s very _audible_ response as the door slid open was humiliating enough for the Prime’s optics to flicker briefly, the line of his mouth visibly tightening.  
  
“M-my Lord?”  
  
“You may come in, Medic, but you _will not_ touch him.” He turned his glare onto Knock Out for a moment, promising dire consequences for disobedience.  
  
Knock Out faltered, under that stare, but one glance at the restrained figure was enough to rev his engine again, and he quickly agreed to behave.  
  
Starscream wasn’t even trying to hide his smugly superior smirk, clearly amused. He backed towards the wall, allowing Knock Out more room to circle their exhibit. Unlike the rest of them, Knock Out moved quickly, his optics darting from place to place as if he couldn’t decide where to focus.  
  
“Perhaps _you_ have had more experience with erotic art, Medic?”  
  
Knock Out glanced up, startled, before he looked over at the silent, unobtrusive Soundwave. “You did this?”  
  
Soundwave nodded once, and Knock Out’s expression turned … intrigued. “You have experience?”  
  
Soundwave gestured in the negative, and Knock Out looked faintly perplexed. He turned his gaze back on the Prime, whose current expression was most satisfying. The Autobots knew of Knock Out’s fetishes; many prisoners had been subjected to them when his services had been available. Megatron had never felt the desire to deny him his pleasures, not when they had been so very _useful._  
  
Optimus clearly believed he would be dealing with them firsthand. Megatron had not completely dismissed that as an option.  
  
“Your work is exquisite, Soundwave. I would like to see more, if you have the opportunity.”  
  
“As would I.” Megatron murmured, and Optimus’ optics locked on his own for the briefest of moments. He could not be sure if it was fear in them, or a promise of retribution. Perhaps it had been both.  
  
“Was he fully fueled, before you brought him here?” Megatron asked, and Soundwave’s positive gesture pleased him. “As long as he remains motionless, I don’t see why we cannot keep him displayed this way a while longer. Two megacycles, perhaps?”  
  
Starscream laughed. “Will you allow the rest of the crew access, Lord Megatron?”  
  
“I will.” He could see how much the prisoner disliked that decision, but Prime made no attempt to argue. “Any may enter, but Soundwave will remain on guard to make sure _no one_ touches him without my express permission.”  
  
Knock Out looked faintly disappointed, but was wise enough to keep silent on the subject. “Do you have any further need of me, my Lord?”  
  
Megatron gestured towards the door, and the Medic bowed deeply before leaving. Starscream snickered quietly, before offering his Lord a barely-acceptable bow and following.  
  
Optimus was already struggling to restore some of the composure he had lost under their attention, but it was clear it would take him some time to regain it completely. Megatron dismissed him, for now, and focused his attention entirely on Soundwave.  
  
His most loyal Decepticon rarely asked for anything, even when he had earned the greatest of rewards through exemplary service.  
  
Soundwave acknowledged him with a nod, and Megatron returned it. His Communications Officer had taken a long time to accept he was no longer required to bow to a superior. In private, he was Megatron’s equal in all but name.  
  
“You have my permission, Soundwave. My only restriction is that you do not release him.”  
  
He received a deep bow in response, silently expressed gratitude.  
  
Megatron smiled faintly, noting with savage satisfaction the poorly concealed fear and nausea in their prisoner’s expression as he departed.


End file.
